


turtle shells

by hailingstars



Series: someone gets hurt (febuwhump 2021) [24]
Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Genre: Competition, FebuWhump2021, Gen, Head Injury, Hurt Peter Parker, Mario Kart References, Parent Tony Stark, Peter letting his competitive strike get the best of him, Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure, Yes again, gokart accident
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-26
Updated: 2021-02-26
Packaged: 2021-03-16 19:21:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,902
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29705373
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hailingstars/pseuds/hailingstars
Summary: He set the karts up at the finish line, and frowned when Tony tried handing him a helmet.“I’m Spider-Man,” said Peter. “I don’t need a helmet.”“You do have a really thick skull, sure,” Tony told him. “But even your stubbornness isn’t enough to save you from a head injury.”“That’s a low blow.”“Truth hurts.”ORPeter crashes his go-kart and actually did need a helmet.
Relationships: Peter Parker & Tony Stark
Series: someone gets hurt (febuwhump 2021) [24]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2138436
Comments: 24
Kudos: 161
Collections: febuwhump 2021





	turtle shells

It all started with a blizzard, and a Nintendo Switch. 

The arctic blast that swept through the East Coast, and the snow that piled up as a result of the never thawing temperatures, trapped Peter inside the lake house. What was supposed to have been a weekend visit turned into a week-long visit, because Tony and May both didn’t want to risk him driving back into the city and getting stranded in the wintery nightmare. 

So, Peter was stuck inside, and was forced to attend classes and do his schoolwork online, which took up considerably less time than going to school in person. 

He spent most of the day bored out of his mind. That was where the Nintendo Switch had come in. 

He had been laid out on the couch, under a thin blanket, with just the tips of his brown hair sticking out, when he let out a frustrated groan. 

“This is so boring,” he complained.

The blanket got ripped off him, and Tony stared down at him. “Getting off the couch might help with that.” 

“And do what?” asked Peter. “There’s nothing to do.” 

“Why don’t you play some video games?” asked Tony. “Like a normal teenager?” 

Before Peter could protest that he was even bored of video games, that was how long he’d been trapped inside, Tony was off collecting the Nintendo Switch controllers. 

“Move your legs,” he ordered, when he got back to the couch. 

Peter glared at him before he sat up and swung his legs off the couch, sinking his feet into the carpet. Tony threw a controller at him. It bounced off his arm and landed on the cushion. 

“Hey,” said Peter. He rubbed his arm.

“Oh, stop. That didn’t hurt.”

“It’s the principle.” Peter picked up the controller. “What are we playing?” 

“Mario Karts.” 

“Mario  _ Kart _ .” 

“Yeah,” said Tony. “That’s what I said.” 

“No you said -” He stopped, and shook his head, not understanding why old people bothered with video games if they were going to be so cringe about it. “Nevermind.” 

Peter took control and breezed through the setup screen so he wouldn’t have to wait for Tony to figure it out. They picked their karts and their characters. Peter picked Toad, and Tony picked Peach, and then they were off to the tracks. 

It started exactly how Peter expected it would. He was in the lead, and Tony struggled, or at least pretended to. Pretended because by the last half of the second lap Tony kept a pace that put him just barely behind Peter, and in the last half of the third Tony hit him with a shell and soared past the finish line, taking first place. 

“How did you -” started Peter. It hit him. That Tony had just been pretending to be bad that whole just to catch him off guard and beat him at the last second. “You’re actually good?!?”

“I’m a stay at home dad, Pete,” said Tony. “What do you think Morgan and I do all day?” 

“Pretty sure Pepper would disapprove,” muttered Peter. 

“Relax, officer, we abide by screen time,” said Tony. He checked his watch. “Which reminds me, you have about forty-five minutes left. Just enough time for you to lose to your old man over and over again.” 

“You’re the absolute worst,” he told him, on the count of suggesting he was young enough to still have screen time and the count of him having the audacity to be good at video games. 

“Peter, I’m a literal tech genius,” said Tony. “And not to mention -”

“-savior of the universe  _ I know _ . You mention it all the time, actually.” 

Tony moved right past that criticism. “Just saying, how could you think I’d be bad at this? It’s my hometurf.” 

“Whatever,” said Peter. “Let’s just start a new race.” 

This time Peter was determined to win, and he figured, now that he understood Tony was a hassler and had to rely on petty tactics like turtle shells to win, he stood a better chance. Except he didn’t. Time and time again he came in second place, until Tony took a look at his watch and declared video game time was over. 

“Go do your schoolwork,” said Tony, shutting off the system, despite Peter challenging him to one more game.

“I’m done with my schoolwork,” said Peter. “You’re just afraid you’re gonna lose.”

“Statistics aren’t on your side, bud,” said Tony. He put a hand on Peter’s shoulder. “Just admit that I’m better at Mario Karts.” 

Peter shoved him away. 

For the next couple of days, he let his slightly illogical and petty rage at being defeated in Mario Kart by someone who couldn’t remember to say the name correctly simmer into something creative. 

He wandered into the garage with a brilliant idea. He’d build his own go-karts. He’d build two, with exactly the same specs, then he and Tony could have a real life race to see who was really the better racer. 

*

By the time Peter finished his building and designing his karts, spring had arrived. The ground was soft with mud, and the air was warm in a way, but cold in others. 

He set the karts up at the finish line, and frowned when Tony tried handing him a helmet.

“I’m Spider-Man,” said Peter. “I don’t need a helmet.” 

“You do have a really thick skull, sure,” Tony told him. “But even your stubbornness isn’t enough to save you from a head injury.” 

“That’s a low blow.” 

“Truth hurts.” Tony shoved the helmel into his stomach, and Peter accepted it that time, though he didn’t plan on wearing it. 

He got settled into the driver’s seat, appreciating his own handy work. The seat was comfortable and cozy. 

He threw the helmet on the ground when Tony wasn’t looking. They waited for Morgan to wave the checkered flag Peter had picked up from the dollar store for this specific event, and once it was waved, Peter floored it. 

He zoomed off, leaving Tony in his dust, where he belonged. 

Peter was pretty confident he was going to win that time, up until he started to hear Tony behind him, getting closer and closer. He turned his head to gage his distance, but that turned out to be a big mistake. 

His kart hit something that was on the ground, and jerked into another direction. The  _ wrong  _ direction. He hit a tree with enough force to fling him out of the cozy seat. He banged his head against the tree trunk, and fell first to his knees, then to his side.

Peter’s head hit the ground, and gave a muffled whine.

“Would I be a bad mentor if I said I told you so?” asked Tony, after pulling up and parking his go-kart.

“Yes,” said Peter, his face still in the dirt. “Technically you just did say it.” He wiggled around on the ground, hoping to find a comfortable position there, anything that might make the pounding ache in his head disappear. 

“What’d you hit, anyway?”

“Don’t care.” 

“Oh,” said Tony. 

Peter looked over out of curiosity, but very much wished he hadn’t. Tony held up a now broken, giant plastic toy turtle shell. Nintendo was stamped across bits of the broken plastic, and it was a replica of the shells in the game. 

“Guess these will always be your downfall.” Tony tossed the turtle shell inside of the wreck go-kart. “How bad is the pain, kid?” 

“Bad enough that I’m still laying on the ground,” said Peter. “And not murdering that stupid toy.” 

“To be fair your tires did a lot of damage to it.” 

“I need to finish the job.” 

Peter raised his hand, thinking he might muster enough energy to crawl over and at least chuck that thing into the lake, but the pain in his head blared. It pinned him to the ground. He groaned.

“Okay,” said Tony. He bent down and put a hand on his arm. “Let’s get you back to the house, Toad.” 

*

Tony did most of the work walking back to the lake house. He helped Peter inside, and helped him to sit on the couch. 

He made a few phone calls, and before Peter knew what was happening, a yellow portal appeared in the Stark’s living room. A confused looking Bruce Banner stepped out of it, and the ring of yellow disappeared as quickly as it had appeared. 

“You know, Tony,” said Bruce. “I’m pretty sure Strange is going to blacklist you if you keep abusing his wizard powers.”

“Abusing?” asked Tony. “This is an emergency. My kid hit his head.”

“He’s Spider-Man. He hits his head all the time,” said Bruce. “And Strange said you’re disrespecting the sanctity of the ancient arts.”

“Well I guess you’re gonna have to drive back to the compound, then,” said Tony. “You can take Peter’s go-kart. The one he wrecked, after so wisely refusing to wear a helmet.” 

Bruce’s confusion turned to Peter. “You didn’t wear a helmet?”

“No lectures,” whined Peter. “Head hurts.” 

Bruce sighed. He examined him, asking him questions and shining a light in his eyes. 

“He’s probably got a concussion,” said Bruce. “But it looks like a mild one, so just keep him rested. No triggers, like screens. No phones. No TV or video games.” 

“That’s perfectly fine with me, Dr. Banner,” said Peter. “Never playing video games again.” 

“He’s dramatic,” said Tony. “And a sore loser.” 

“Uh huh,” said Bruce, with caution.

He called Strange right away, probably wisely not wanting to get involved with an obvious Peter and Tony competition. Strange grumpily agreed to portal him back, and just like that, it was just the two of them once again. 

“What can I do for you, kid?” 

“Let me win at Mario Kart. 

Tony laughed. 

“I’m being serious,” muttered Peter, though it was only half true. “I need this.” 

“Why?” Tony sat down on the armchair next to the couch.

“I dunno,” he said. His words were unguarded and way too honest. Peter blamed the concussion. “You’re just so good at everything. It’d be nice not to stand in your shadow.” 

“Oh,” said Tony. “That’s easy. You’re better than the hero thing than I ever was -”

“-come on, Tony.”

“Seriously, kid, you understand people and they like you for it. And you’ve saved my life more than I’ve saved yours.” 

“...What?”

“Yep,” said Tony. “There was the time with Squidward, the mission with those creatures that looked like trolls, that time on the boat…” Tony continued with his list, and Peter listened, shocked.

Maybe it was the concussion, but he’d forgotten about half of those instances. 

“Okay,” said Peter, after Tony was finished with his list. He let his eyes slid shut. “You can have Mario Karts.”

“It’s Mario  _ Kart. _ ”

“I’m concussed,” said Peter. “What’s your excuse?” 

“My parental right to troll my children whenever possible.” 

“You’re the worst.”

“And I take pride in it. Now rest up, so we can redo our race  _ with helmets _ this time, and I can beat you in real life as well.” 

“Dream on,” said Peter, though he was the one about to fall asleep. 

He started to drift off. He felt a blanket being tossed over him. Peter got lost in a dream where Mario Kart had an option to remove turtle shells from the game, and Morgan had learned to pick up her toys. 

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> 3 DAYS LEFT
> 
> also thanks to anarchyduck for giving me the Peter doesn't like helmets idea on Tumblr!! <3 
> 
> thanks for reading!!
> 
> comments and kudos let me know what you think!!


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